


The Ignomonius Robodick of Dr. Pilchard

by CertifiedPissWizard



Category: Tales To Be Told - The Mechanisms (Album), The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: M/M, anyways you can probably guess what this would have been if i could legally write horny things, sometimes you go feral and then write dr pilchard with a robodick, yes i had fun writing it yes i dont remember writing it yes that does happen on a regular basis, yes i have written horny multiple times no i cannot do it legally
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:01:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23687353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CertifiedPissWizard/pseuds/CertifiedPissWizard
Summary: "you know that feeling when you kidnap some space pirates so you can get money because you're broke but then become an immortal with a robodick and one of the people you kidnapped just started being strangely nice to you? yeah..."- Dr. Pilchard, probably
Relationships: Dr. Pilchard/Drumbot Brian
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23
Collections: The Mechanisms After Dark





	The Ignomonius Robodick of Dr. Pilchard

Doctor Doctor Pilchard does not die inside the long abandoned lab of Dr. Carmilla. That would, perhaps, be too simple an ending for a fucking asshole who was drowing in the oceans of his own hubris by the time he turned twenty, and honestly he’s kind of glad and also horrified all at once by the fact that he just didn’t die there because on the one hand not dying is the cool and sexy thing he was trying to learn the secret of when he invaded this ship but on the other also incredibly sexy hand he didn’t really want to have his penis turned into some sort of robodick. None of this really changes the fact that he didn’t die and is now laying on the floor of an abandoned lab filled with various abominations with a metal dick. He slowly pushes himself up from the ground, stretching carefully. “Well. I’ve had worse experiences I suppose.” He remembers the noodle debacle. He shudders. Next up he needs to find a way to get out of the lab and also the ship without being seen, because he doesn’t really want to deal with any questions as to whether or not he got the answers that he was seeking. Mostly because the only response available to that is, “I have a roboweiner that I’m pretty sure has metal tentacles.” That’s not the sort of thing you want to say to people you’ve held hostage. Especially because they would very probably mock you for it, and while Doctor may not be able to die that just means he has to live through the mortification.

He leaves the lab and immediately runs into the drumbot. He steps back into the lab and prays for a death that he knows will never come, honestly like most of his past sexual partners. Maybe he should have tried to find the secrets of how to better pleasure his partners. That probably wouldn’t have ended up with his dick getting turned into this. Brian is speaking from the other side of the door. “I’m glad you survived. I would have felt really bad if you hadn’t.” Doctor says absolutely nothing and waits for the question. “How did you survive?” There it is. Does he lie? Does he tell the truth? Does he make a run for it? “Oh. Your ship got destroyed, by the way.” He’s going to die in this lab. He’s going to lay down and wait for his mechanism to stop working and then he’s going to die. That’s the only option that he has left to him. It’s the only possible thing left for him to do. There are no other choices. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” Maybe this will qualify as an end to the conversation. Please may it qualify as an end to the conversation. Please may this humiliation end. He doesn’t get paid enough to deal with this. He did not want this “gift” of immortality and a robodick. He changed his mind.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Oh no. Oh no. Drumbot Brian is just being all good and true and concerned. This is awful. How is he supposed to respond to this.

“Not really. Like I said. I’m fine.” Please may the conversation end so he can hurl himself into the void. Please. Let him perish.

“I’m just worried since you’re hiding in there.” Doctor lives here now. This lab filled with the abominations that did this to him is now his home. He is never leaving ever at all at any point in time. This is horrible and he is in hell. “Can you come out? You must be hungry.” How is he being all nice? Why is he being all nice? This is the nightmare scenario. He weighs his desire to wait in here for death against his realization that while he did have very groovy motives given the capitalist hellscape that is his home galaxy he was also rude as hell and staying in the lab to die might be also rude as hell. He, rather reluctantly opens the door.

“While I don’t regret my actions at all, it was still rude to take you all hostage like that. I’m sorry for being rude. I was just caught up in the drama of it all.” This is the most awkward apology ever made in the history of apologies and there have been an awful lot of awkward apologies over the history of every apology ever. Brian nods.

“I’m not saying that it’s okay. Let’s go get some food.” Pilchard’s brain is now chanting what the fuck over and over again. He does his best to act like he isn’t confused as hell. “So how did you survive.” He tells himself not to overshare over and over again and then he opens his mouth and regrets everything.

“I had a part of me mechanized.”

“Oh? What part?” Doctor prays that the ship he is on will strike him down. She does not. “Do you not want to talk about it?”

“Not really. It’s awkward. Could we drop the subject?” Brian nods and the hall descends into silence. Doctor studiously continues resisting the urge to overshare because that would make things more awkward and uncomfortable for everyone than they already are, and while he is willing to kidnap and experiment on people, once the megolomania passes he has a lot of trouble not being painfully awkward.

“So. You seem different.”

“Sometimes you just go through periods of megalomania where you kidnap people and plan to experiment upon them to try and get money in this capitalist hellscape of a galaxy we’re in. You know? Sometimes it’s just like that. I’m kind of over it right now. That sort of mood is kind of exhausting.”

“Fair enough.” The hall once more descends into awkward silence. He doesn’t trust Brian, of course, not fully. It’s not the sort of thing that one can reasonably do after holding someone hostage for a while. It would be, in a word, downright irresponsible of him to do that. He wants to, though, just trust him little a bit. As a treat. Then he thinks about the helpful direction to go into the lab and decides that trust is not something that Doctor Doctor Pilchard is willing to offer at this point in time. “So are you actually a doctor? And what sort?”

"I am. And I’m a doctor of philosophy. It’s made getting jobs a bit of a challenge. Luckily I took all those STEM classes on the side because my thesis was on the changes upon ethical systems that would be required if people became immortal.” He gives Brian a self effacing smile. “Didn’t really pay off all that well.” It would have if he’d still had a ship, of course. Apparently it was destroyed, though. Now he’s trapped. God. He really should have thought this whole thing through a lot better, huh?

“Well, it’s still impressive that you managed to take us all down like that. Nobody’s done that in a while. It was a good job.” Brian gives him a moment to catch up and then pats him on the back. “So, what do you want to eat, because like I said earlier. You must be hungry, and since you’re trapped here it’s the least I can do. Especially since you’ll just end up coming back to the Aurora eventually, even if you try to leave.”

“What.” He takes a moment to process that. “What do you mean by that?”

“It’s the bioprogramming. Everyone with a mechanism always comes back in the end. Also, if you don’t play a musical instrument you’re going to need to learn.” The hall goes silent except for the humming of the ship and the sound of footsteps. “There’s probably a lot you need to know.”

“I’m definitely starting to get that feeling.” He keeps following Brian.

“While I’m not quite an expert on how these work, I’ll still do my best to be helpful. Here’s the kitchen.” Brian bustles Pilchard into a chair, and then starts to go about cooking what seems to be some sort of stirfry. He pays attention to the ingredients the Drumbot is using, the spices, the steps. It’s a lot better than thinking about the sudden unexpected immortality, the new home that they can’t ever fully run away from, and also the robodick. He can’t really forget that, can he. He does his best to go back to ignoring the strange feel of metal down there. It’s not as easy as he would like, but it could be worse. He’s not sure how getting made immortal against his will could have been worse, but at least in this timeline the stirfry is almost done.

“So what do you mean about how I’m going to need to learn an instrument if I don’t already play one. That’s the sort of information that seems incredibly strange and important to know.”

“Oh. It’s the bioprogramming. It makes us record experiences at songs.”

“That’s. It’s definitely a sentence that you just said.”

“Yes.” There’s an awkward silence. “It isn’t too bad, you know. I mean, the others are incredibly murdery, but you were able to capture all of us in the ship that tends towards the protective side of all of us. You’ll definitely manage. We’ll come up with something for you to do on the ship. It’ll be fine.”

“I. I literally have a doctorate in philosophy and was living in a two bedroom apartment with eight people. This is a lot to try and process; I hope you understand. This is a big adjustment. Fuck. I mean. Shit. My penis is metal now. Okay? This is an awful lot for me to deal with right now. This is just a lot. Space Jesus Christ.”

“I’m more than glad to help you adjust.” Brian smiles. “Eat your stirfry.” The stirfry is, quite unfairly delicious.

* * *

“So. I’’m going to need to find a room. Do you know if my stuff also got destroyed? Because if so then I’m definitely going to need to get some new clothes.”

“The Aurora would have stopped them from destroying your stuff once she realized that you weren’t being torn limb from limb, don’t worry. Do you want to go get your clothes first? Or would you rather find a room? Or do you want to keep talking?”

“Talking would be nice.” Brian grabs his hand, starts leading him down one of the halls, opens a door. They end up sitting on the bed in what is, presumably Brian’s room. “So. Is there anything else that I need to know? About the immortality or life on the ship or the crew?”

“Well, you’ll need to watch out for the octokittens. They can tend towards the blood thirsty. There are also the stowaways. Nobody really understands much about them. Stay out of Raphaella’s lab. Marius isn’t a real doctor or baron. He’s good in bed. Jonny can and will shoot you if you piss him off, and nobody is really sure how to avoid doing that. Also, mechanized parts have different capabilities than their normal counterparts. You’ll also find your vision and memory are better. You said your dick was mechanized.” He gives Pilchard a look that Pilchard isn’t entirely sure how to read, eyes dark and heavy with something.

“Yes. I did.”

“Do you maybe want to figure out how it’s different from what it was before? I mean, not to be too forward. It seems like it might help you adjust to your new situation, and I do want to help with that.” This, Pilchard thinks, is definitely not happening. There is no possible way that this could be happening. It just isn’t possible that this could be happening. “I hope I didn’t make you too uncomfortable. I just want to help, and if this is something that could help you feel more comfortable with your new situation.”

“Are you propositioning me?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe we should talk first? About that? This does seem like the sort of thing that talking would be important in.”

“Are there any things that would make you feel uncomfortable?”

“I can’t think of anything? I’ll say something if it’s an issue?” Pilchard is still baffled, but then he’s being kissed by Brian. It sends a feeling of something across his body. He takes a break for breath. “I’m. I hope that was good for you.” Never let it be said that while Pilchard has always been the worst at kissing and sex that he didn’t at least try to be less bad at it for his partners.

“You could stand to use a bit more tongue,” Brian says. He smiles, and then he’s kissing Pilchard again. Pilchard uses a bit more tongue, tries his best to not be bad at it. They pull apart so he can get some more air. “Better.” They kiss again, and Brian teases at his lips with sharp metal teeth. Pilchard feels his robodick starting to perk up some. He studiously ignores it, and he tries his best to make sure the stream of kisses that he and Brian have started sharing is also a stream of improvement. There’s a hand on the tent of fabric covering the cold metal of his penis. It makes a feeling curl low in his gut. “Is this alright?”

“Yes. It is. It definitely is.” Brian smiles at him sweetly.


End file.
